Thavma Chronicles: The Report
by The Duke of Newcombe
Summary: An unknown Inquisitor from the Imperium's dying days retrieves an almost mythical historical document. Expect some familiar characters. Inspired by (read an inversion of) Menzies Tank's deviant art work. /gallery/48215519.
1. Chapter 1

**Thavma Chronicles: The Initial Report.**

_After Action Report: Author's personal commentary bracketed and bolded in Italics added sometime after official archiving. Original archive date 114M42.303_

To: Grandmaster (Redacted) Ordos Thavma

CC: Inquisitor Lord Wyndham Gileas, care of Sister Initiate Iubara Fidela.

From: Inquisitor (redacted)

Greetings My Lord,

I have the honour to inform you that the data repository known as the Veydon Archive has been successfully retrieved from the Space Hulk codenamed _Act of Vengeance_. This was achieved by an insertion team consisting of myself, Brother Gauis Bukanin of the Sons of Americ (seconded to the Deathwatch), The Rogue Trader Hrodbearth Eisenstark, the Reclamator Larissa von Dume, Magos Tatya Sable and a reinforced company strength party of Armsmen from the Rogue Trader Vessel _Venit Heims._

_(__**Get in, find what we're looking for and get out. Sounds simple doesn't it? But it never is. For starters I for one wasn't even convinced it existed**__)._

Among other artefacts retrieved were the Relic Daemon Hammer known as the Hammer of Thunor, to be returned to Fenris at first opportunity, and the Storm Shield known as Americ's Legacy a decision on its ultimate fate pending a reply from the Sons of Americ Chapter Master.

(_**Meaning that because he recovered it after the Emperor alone knows how long, Brother Bukanin probably hopes to named the next Chapter Ancient and transferred from the Deathwatch)**_

Other articles and artefacts recovered have been disposed of according to the usual procedures.

(**_And since we took passage on a Rogue Trader, this means hidden away and sold off when that young rogue Eisenstark can be sure no one's looking._)**

As suspected, the retrieval of this relic proved to be a challenging endeavour due to the Ork infestation around the artefact's last known location. (**As 90% of Eisenstark's armsmen who accompanied us can posthumously attest, given the lengths that a Rogue Trader, particularly of his particular lineage was prepared to take to retrieve it, it seems that he at least, believes it is genuine.**)

Preliminary investigation of the principal artefact itself suggests that this is indeed genuine or at the very least and authentic replication of the same. Popular conjecture regarding the method of storage and access also seem to be corroborated. (**This raises some uncomfortable questions regarding the late Grandmaster himself, specifically his own methods and motives**)

I will undertake more thorough tests of the archive when we have transitted into the Vakand system for repairs and an Auto Séance can be safely conducted.

Until then I remain your most Obedient Servant (Redacted) Inquisitor, Ordo Xenos, Ordos Thavma


	2. Chapter 2

The following was autotranscribed from pict and vox recordings from the a Shark Assault Boat registered to the _Venit Heims_.

The last of the boarding party are in position. This particular contingent is under the direct command of Inquisitor (Redacted) who is securing himself in a seat adjusted to accommodate his power armour. "A 5 boat raid for a dataslate sir?" The speaker is Lt. Poppy Bonesteel, the Ogryn commanding the Armsmen platoon assigned to this particular boat. "We don't know what's guarding it Lieutenant." The inquisitor is terse. "Or if it's even genuine." "That too but I doubt we'd need nearly 200 ex Astrae Militarae to check its authenticity." "It's got something to with old Anton right." "Who told you that." "Well why else would an Inquisitor and a Rogue Trader be working like this?".

(_**I'd heard rumours that the Ogryn women were considerably cleverer than their menfolk but this one gave most humans officers a run for their money. Not only did she know her logic but she also knew her history. Anton Eisenstark was a direct ancestor of young Hrodbearth and had a much closer working relationship with the Inquisition than was typical for one of his ilk.)**_

++ All units this is Flag, ETA 10 minutes, Magos Sable, have you completed the prelimary rites for the EMP++ This is a radio transmission from Rogue Trader Eisenstark's Assaulboat.

++ Affirmitive Flag, given the inherent risk and uncertain I have prepared a psy link trigger tuned to the Inquisitor's psychic essence.++

++ Good thinking Tatty++

"So one though from you and we're gone in a puff of smoke then?" Bonesteel enquires."

"Or a blast of warp energy or a gust of wind my typical to Teleportation phenomena, although puffs of smoke have indeed been documented, but only rarely." Corrects her orderly, Private Ibzer.

"Pedant."  
"That's what I'm paid for sir."

"I know the name but how did this Veydon bloke get mixed up in all this? We are talking about Josiah Veydon the historian right?"

(_**It's hardly surprising she doesn't know. Very few, even Grandmasters are well known to the public in person. Kolius Raege was very much the exception to the rule.)**_

"A colleague."

(**This was strictly speaking a lie, I had never met the old Grand Master, in fact he had disappeared before I was even a lowly acolyte with the Ordos Thavma. My old master however, knew the man personally .)**

"I thought you fellas burned books rather than wrote them."

"Veydon was a scholar first and foremost."  
"Well that would explain why every man and his dog knows the name despite not having any idea who he really was."

"I suppose."

"Must be something bloody important in this archive though. Plans? Star Charts? STC database?"

"No idea."

++ Well is where we say goodbye ladies and gents++ Internal intercome, from Sublieutenant Brown, the pilot of the assaultboat ++

"Right, move out."

Autotranscription ends.


	3. Chapter 3

The following was autotranscribed from vox and pict recordings downloaded from a suit of Eisenstark pattern power armour registered to Inquisitor (Redacted).

The boarding party has docked at the primary shield generator for one of the wrecks (Scans from the rogue trader vessels suggest it to be the Isolde pattern trade clipper "_Summersdale_", rumoured to be the last known location of Grandmaster Veydon). "Magos Sable, has the charge been set." "Yes Inquisitor." "Right, then move out." Orders Capt. Morrigen, the commander of the Armsmen contingent. The party proceeds through the superstructure of the wreck to the main staterooms. A gunshot sounds and one of the armsmen falls wounded.

"Ambush!" I draw my force sword and inferno pistol, looking around. There are hundreds of orks rushing from the shadows towards our party. Lt. Bonesteel's chainsword revs and she cuts and ork (relatively) clean in two with a single stroke. One ork leaps at me wielding a primitive pistol and a mace fashioned from a piece of superstructure from a spaceship. He disintegrates in midair as my shot catches him square in the chest. Another ork takes a swing at Magos Sable's back. She does not move, the Drangon Scale pattern power armour protects her. She turns round almost too fast for the eye to see and decapitates the greenskin with a single sweep of her Omnisian Axe.

The Xeno Arcanist Yanis Endriks runs one ork through with a powersword concealed in his cane. The ork then grabs his leg and the academic shoots it in the head with a naval pistol gifted from some long lost expedition. We proceed down several decks and ambushes morale and numbers falling we reach a large, well established "settlement" of orks. The redesign of the cavernous cargo holds gives the impression of a parody of some old shanty town. A series of improvised explosives cut down yet more armsmen in a whirlwind of twisted metal. "Well this mission just got a lot more complicated." Endriks remarked. "Why do you think I brought over 100 armsmen?" Asks Eisenstark, once again drawing his family's ancient Vakand made sword, Ice Claw.

" I See it!" Shouts tech priest Sable.

"See what?" Bonesteel yells back

"The dataslate!" "Where, round that psyker's waist."

"Huh?" "Augmetic eyes."

"Right."

They don't have time to finish the conversation as the orks descend upon us in a crashing green wave. For every greenskin we bring down with a shot, two more come charging forward. Las bolt, flame, bolt round, nothing seems to diminish their numbers. "Where did you see this damn thing?" As the dwindling boading party is bunching closer together, Eisenstark and myself are edging closer to the Wyrdboy. The spacemarine Bukanin is beside us shouting insults over the sound of his own stormbolter. Bonesteel is not far behind with half a dozen armsmen trying to support us. An ork nearly the size of Bukanin lunges from the gloom, catching the rogue trader square in the chest with an enormous hammer. He falls backwards and two men try to drag him to safety, a hopeless gesture as he is clad in the same pattern of power armour I wear myself.

"Come at me Greenskin." Bukanin yells, his bluster now replaced with genuine rage, his power axe flaring in the dimly lit metal cavern. Bonesteel revs her chainsword. "No." The Astartes says quietly. "He's mine." The ork charges brandishing the hammer bellowing obscenities. In the ensuing fight, Bukanin seems intent on attacking the xeno's shoulders. A punishing blow from the hammer causes the Space Marine to drop his power axe. He then reaches forward, and wrenches ork's breastplate off in a shower of scrap metal and chain links. The ork headbuts his helmet and staggers back. It then stares down in mild surprise at the 10 or so centimetres of Vakandite Alloy protruding from its chest. Eisenstark removes his sword from the creatures back and decapitates it in a two handed blow. His armour is dented and he is walking unsteadily.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asks. Bukanin simply nods, an almost imperceptible motion in an astartes helmet. The breast plate is infact a round shield. There is a white star emblazoned on the red rimmed blue Vakandite Allow. It is identical to the chapter symbol of the Sons of Americ, which adorns the right shoulder of Bukanin's armour.

"Well it's not what we came here for." I say brusquely

"It is what I came here for." The Marine replies.

"What about his hammer, that looks Imperial, too big for a man, probably Astartes issue too."

I say. He clips the thunder hammer to the back of his pack and does likewise with the shield. The sounds of Gunfire die down. I don't know if this is a food thing or a bad thing. Eisenstark seems to share my thoughts.

"Boarding party come in."

"This is Colour Sergeant Rime sir, Captain Morrigan's dead and most of the officers are either dead or wounded."

"Any more Greenskin attacks?"

"Negative sir."

"Bonesteel, get back to their position and take command. Find a structure and fortify it as best you can, have Magos Sable put a teleport homer there."

"Right you are boss."

The she Ogryn says, sketching a salute and casting an envious glance at the hammer before leaving. I can sense a powerful psychic presence in the opposite direction and motion Eisenstark and Bukanin to follow. A ball of green fire roars towards us and splashes against the Space Marine's newly claimed shield. The Mind Impulse Unit weapons in Eisenstark's suit power up as he covers our run toward the Ork Wyrdboy. A burly ork steps to block us and Bukanin decapitates it without breaking his stride.

The Xeno psyker brandishes an axe bellowing threats. Our blades clash. The Ork takes a wild swing to decapitate meand I duck sideways. It then reverses the axe and the back connects with my helmet and I fall to the deck. It draws the axe back to cut me in two and I run it through with my force sword, focusing my will into the blade. The Wyrdboy burts into green flames, the Dataslate miraculously untouched. "Fall Back!" I yell, focusing my will once more into a massive kinetic blast that scatters out pursuers. We flee, the dataslate that has caused so much death this day tucked under my pistol arm. The armsmen are barricaded in a makeshift structure bolted to the bulkhead, beset on 3 sides. Another kinetic blast and a hail of shot and energy discharge from Eisenstarks venerable armour clears our path. Once inside I mentally trigger the EMP device attached to the hulks void shields.

"Venit Heims this is Eisenstark, get us out of here now!" The recoding stops as our party, now barely numbering 3 dozen, are dragged through the warp and onto the Telemportarium of the Eisenstarks flagship.


	4. Chapter 4

**From the journal of Inquisitor [Redacted] 114 M42.299**

Exposure to the raw primordial essence of Chaos even for a the briefest instant can twist the mind, body, or even the soul. My own latent psychic abilities began to surface as I was so exposed the very first time I was sent on a mission using a teleporter.

I awoke to the familiar tang of antiseptics and nervous quiet of a medical facility. A servo skull hovered over my head. "The patient is awake." It stated in a flat monotone. A giant of a man in a plain, white short sleeved robe approaches. "Steady now Interrogator." He said gruffly.

"Not for much longer." The growling voice made me Jump, sending a shooting pain down my right side. "I did say keep still." The white robed medicae said.

"What?" I asked. I am barely capable of concentrating from the chemically induced fug of painkillers and sedatives. Despite having my memories, I am simply reliving the events that led to my recovery of the Veydon Archive, despite the feeling that I'm actually there, I do not seem truly in control of my actions, only repeating what was said and done at the time

" I also took the liberty of putting your name forward for election, which could make you one of the shortest serving interrogators in history." I remember one the secret orders in my Master, Inquisitor Damani Bosk's despatches named me Interrogator if the investigation to Aver proved successful. It had after a fashion, three months of painstaking investigation concerning disappearances and arson on that frontier world had been proven to be the work of the foul Rak'gol xenoes. I had conducted the investigation under the Seal of Questioning as a Legate Investigator. Even before I had sent the report of my findings to the Grand Master's Flagship, the _Avenger's Shield ,_ I had used the authority my master had given me to fully mobilise Aver's Planetary Defence Force and request aid from Battlefleet Thavma_. _

"Howlett?"

"That's Brother Captain Hugo Howlett to you, bub."

"Why?"

"That Distress call you send was heard by damn near every Rak'gol ship in the sector, they decided it was a job for the Ordo Xenos. Speaking of, there are one or two who would be interested in sponsoring you."  
"What about Bosk? What about my team?" I asked fearing the worst.

"Damani Bosk is under arrest for desecrating a Schola Progenium facility."

"What?"

"According to his report it was built over an ancient prison."

"Surely dead convicts wouldn't warrant this."

"The inmate wasn't human?"

"Inmate?"

"Lord of Change. The summoning was thwarted and the demon destroyed by all accounts, but the schola was levelled and the town along with it by a seismic charge."

"And the rest of my team?"

The Space Marine simply shook his head.

"How?"

"Ogryn Trooper Darsh was killed defending the Spaceport, took out five of the bastards in hand to hand combat alone. Savant Major Nicklesby didn't make it after her wounds after the attack on Macharion. The Precentor of the Astropathic choir owes her his life. Professor Sugden died protecting a refugee convoy." Sugden had been an old associate of mine, a Xeno archanist, it was he who had first raised the possibility of Rak'gol involvement. " Mr Drexley died defending the brothel he was visiting." That brought a smile to my face despite the circumstances. Drexley, first name unknown, real name unknown, naval deserter, former underworld hitman and Pariah, figuratively and literally, we were both recruited into Bosks service at the same time, shortly I had arrested the cocksure bastard. Despite our diametrically opposed nature, he was a decent man in his own way, never shirked from any job he volunteered for, no matter the circumstances.

"Father Schrover and Sister Kamala were both killed when the Rak'gol overran a PDF Aid Station." This hit hardest of all. Karel Schrover, a Guard Chaplain, one of the wisest, most wittily obscene men I had ever met. And Kamala, dear dauntless Kamala of the Order of the Warding Beacon, named for Kamala Thavma, namesake of our sector, healer, counsellor, and so much more. "I heardthey tried to do something to save the child but it was too late."

"Child?" This did shock me.

"Not the correct term I suppose, Sister Kamala was six weeks pregnant at the time of her death." This had explained a lot. Not least sharing a billet with me as well as a vague impression that something was preying on her thoughts. Why the hell hadn't I asked her instead of just smiling, nodding and enjoying the unexpected company?

When I regained consciousness I was in a stateroom on a sprint trader in orbit over Thavma's Rest a month after my conversation with Howlett. I was holding the dataslate stating that I had been elected to join the Ordo Xenos of the Thavma Sector and was due to stand my Vigil at the Cathedral of St. Stanislaus on Thavma's Rest, the Capital world of the Sector before my formal elevetation to Inquisitorial rank. The door chimed "May I enter sir?" A voice asked I looked up sharply and sure enough there she was, just as she had been just under a month ago. Clad in the simple dove grey robes of an initiate in the Order of the Argent Shroud, her face, despite the common white striped shingle bob hair cut she was somehow familiar. "I'm not sure I can help you sister?"

"Fidela sir, Iubara Fidela." Of course, now I remembered. Sister of Inquisitor Anna Fidela, another Pariah and also my master, now former master's lover. "My apologies sister, I met your – sister only the once."

She then asked if she was in the right state room, using my name.

"I'm actually an Inquisitor-Elect at the moment, I haven't been formally inducted."

"Well I was instructed to give you this." She said, handing a portable holoprojector and leaving as abruptly as she had entered. Upon closer inspection there appeared to be an old fashioned memory card in one of the ports. When I ejected the card and had a closer look, it turned out to be a psychoactive conductor similar to those of the Emperor's Tarot.

I inserted the card once more and activated the projector.

A perfectly lifelike figure was standing before me.

"Greetings Savant-Commander." It said, addressing me by my Naval Rank.

"It's actually Inquisitor Elect, my Lord." I said, surmising that the psychoactive card was allowing for direct communication. The figure I was addressing was Inquisitor Lord Wyndham Gileas, my former master's former master, former interrogator to Inquisitor Veydon himself, and a dark legend within Thavma Sector's Inquisition in his own right.

"I cannot respond to your questions if you are using the projector in the conventional manner. What I ask of you has been in folly by many men and women in our institution for the past century. Before the events that led to the arrests of myself, my former disciple and your master, I found a lead concerning a priceless piece of Imperial scholarship. My Former Master, Josia Veydon, spent decades, perhaps even centuries compiling our sector's history. I can explain in greater detail if you arrange an Auto Séance."

I duly summoned the ship's Astropath and began the ritual. When I activated the Data Slate again, Gileas's Apparition stepped forward and shook my hand. "Now that there is a psychic connection you can interact with this projection after a fashion."

I don't know whether oaths to psychic projections count but I am sworn not to divulge the details of how Inquisitor Gileas acquired his lead to this supposed archive.

"One question: Dozens of men and women have tried to find Veydon before and none have succeeded, that's why he's officially presumed dead. To the best of my knowledge no one has even tried looking for this archive even if it exists, so, why me?"

"Veydon was my master and I owe it to his memory to find his life's work. But, as you know I am in no position to go after this, and yet I can't let this opportunity slip away. I had hoped to send Inquisitor Fidela but it was she who alerted me to the cult activity on Kalifern. As for Bosk, well, he was installed as Abbot of the Schola to keep him out of the field until his wounds were fully healed. As Bosk's trusted Acolyte, you are the only person I feel I can trust at the moment. And of course, my political enemies were only too happy to comply with my request and give you this assignment as this prevents you from acting as Bosk's Second in the hearing and protecting me by extension."

"Very well My Lord Inquisitor, I take this debt of honour as my own. The Emperor Protects."


	5. Chapter 5

I am then dragged back to Reality, figuratively and literally as Teleportation is completed. Eisenstark's Flag Captain has taken the wise precaution of despatching medical teams to the Teleportarium. Eisenstark himself briefly stands by to watch the Medical teams arrive. Following his example, stark loading the worst wounded on the stretchers to transport them to the Sick Bay. We both head to the armoury to have our power armour removed.

"I hope it was worth it, I lost a lot of good people out there?"

"Worth it how?"

"History, this could tell us a lot about the early years of the sector."

"Not to mention your family history."

"They say Veydon intended to have it in every Schola Progenium as an instruction manual for Thavma Sector's Inquisitors."

The ship rocks and Klaxons sound.

Without thinking I follow Eisenstark to the Bridge.

"Sitrep." The young rogue trader barks

"Ork Rok coming from the asteroids, closing fast, two more probably contacts."

"Have you started the transition rites for Warp travel"

"As soon as you returned aboard."

"How long?"

"20 minutes."

"It'll have to be enough, all ahead full, we're outnumbered and we have what we came for."

There is nothing for me to do so I head to a monitoring station to watch events unfold.

I then see several small blips coming from the direction of the gas giant not far from our position.

"Vampire, Vampire six contacts bearing two five oh mark two one seven, Impact time 50 seconds."

There is a split second of confusion, either because they don't recognise my voice, or because they are unfamiliar with the Naval Voice Procedure. One of the bridge officers however, seems to understand.

"Come to new heading mark oh three seven."

The ship rolls to present its dorsal hull to the torpedoes. This presents a bigger target for what guidance systems they might possess but is also gives more coverage for our point defence guns.

Two of the torpedoes miss entirely, our turrets bring down one more, while the remaining three hit, two of which cause damage. The ship rocks at the impact and a console on the bridge shorts out, killing the officer manning it.

"Where the hell did they come from?" Eisenstark asks.

"They must have used the gravity well of the gas giant as a slingshot and fired off the torpedoes to cripple us when we tried to escape."

"I've never heard of orks trying something that clev- sneaky." He says hastily avoid the blasphemy of praising the Alien

" The last time someone tried that was heretic reavers about six months back." We decompressed a few decks, detonated some ordnance, pretended they'd disable us. They moved into boarding range, we locked on, knocked out their shields and send a Teleport raid." The Flag Captain said.

"Well there's no time for that now, we've got to get out of here before these Greenskins show us any more tricks." A digitised voice sounds over the ship's intercom.

"Rights of Passage complete, all hands right for Warping stations."


	6. Chapter 6

I leave the armoury unsteadily. Disengaging from the Mind Impulse Units allowing me to interact with my power armour is a disorienting experience, perhaps I will get used to it in time. Following the mess customs of old, _Venit Heims_ First Officer has invited the Flag Captain as well as myself and Director Eisenstark to the wardroom tonight. Before then I need to make a preliminary analysis of this dataslate. When I reach my quarters I see that two sentries are posted outside of the door, in full kit. "Boss's orders, no one allowed in without his say so." One of them says.

I make a brief search of the room for surveillance equipment, and find none, concluding that actually locating and deactivating it is beyond the means I have at my disposal. This is a valuable artefact, and one of some significance to my young Rogue Trader companion's family, and so he would be most interested to know whatever I can glean from this archive.

I can feel a psychic resonance emanating from within the dataslate. I have no doubt that this uses the same psychoactive material used in Gileas's recording, only on a much grander scale. Perhaps this may be a way of determining whether Veydon is alive or not. Perhaps being the man who led the expedition that rescued the great Josiah Veydon from unknown peril will earn me a place in an archive similar to this in due time. I chide myself at this flight of fancy and activate the dataslate. Thankfully it's a newer model with fittings for an adapter from almost any STC power source or derivative thereof.

The first thing that comes up is a password request. I set my signet ring on the device's side, overriding this primitive security protocol. A hologram activates, nondescript but instantly recognisable. Medium height, stocky build with close cropped ginger hair and a greying beard, neither his appearance nor bearing summon the fearsome image our order projects to the popular imagination.

"Greetings Inquisitor, I am Josiah Veydon, Grandmaster of the Ordos Thavma. You are the first person other than myself and my staff to have accessed this device, and I therefore entrust its contents and legacy to you. I compiled this archive for a greater purpose than posterity and scholarship. It is my intent that this archive be deposited in the Schola Progenium on Evrog as part of the standard curriculum for all inquisitorial acolytes in training."

"A lofty goal." I found myself saying

"To access the full functionality of the this device, you will require an auto séance." The hologram continued.

"However, even without this I trust that the information stored in text will be informative on a wide range of subjects."

An Auto séance is out of the question now we are at warp, but I am told that the ship will need to stop at Vakand for repairs. I will arrange for an Astropath at the Forge World, in the mean time, I will see what this slate has to offer in its mundane form.

"This slate was originally conceived as a way of committing my own experiences and those of my colleagues to archive, but then I realised I could apply the same principles to people I had met, and impart their wisdom and insight to this archive, should they prove willing. Luckily Kolius Raege, the Grandmaster at the time, gave his full blessing to my project, and gave me the singular honour of being my first official interviewee, on the condition that I incorporate certain safeguards preventing certain sensitive information from falling into the wrong hands."

A sensible precaution.

"Even with this small proviso, my first interview, or rather series of interviews provided an extensive synopsis for the Battle of Hive Nova and the abortive Necron invasion of the Planet Evrog. Raege himself even ordered the recording turned over to the Sector Strategium in order to assess the damage caused and our readiness for subsequent threats. However, my position as Equerry to the Grandmaster gave me the opportunity to dig deeper into our sector's history, evento track down Astartes veterans and other venerable personages who could tell their own memories of the terrible marvels on which the history of this sector is built." ...


	7. Chapter 7

As I select the introductory file, the holodisplay shifts to a map of the Thavma sector. Inquisitor Veydon's voice issues once more from the speakers. "It is said that our home was forged during the Crusade of the great Lord Commander Solar Macharius himself. While Imperial rule was restored to Thavma for the first time since the age of Apostasy during this crusade, this rule was brief, and to find the begininings of our history, we must look to Macharian Heresy which followed the death of the Great Warmaster."

This is a surprise to me, almost every child in the Thavma sector knows the name of its first governor, St Stanislaus Lieber, who fought alongside Macharius himself, and the Sector's namesake, Kamala Thavma leader of the Sisters of Battle, whose death triggered the heresy itself."

"The tales told in to children are only half the truth." Veydon continues. Can this device somehow sense my thoughts even without the benefits of an autoseance.

"At the beginning of the crusade, Stanislaus Lieber was newly raised to Commander of X Corps in Field Marshal Arrian's 6th Army Group. In truth, Lieber never met Macharius until the aftermath of the Battle of Chardaxis, when he was named the Warmaster's Chief of Staff following his predecessor's death aboard the _Pax Imperialis_."

"And so it is true that St Stanislaus served at the side of the Warmaster, but he never led an army under Macharius's direct command. Imperial military history rightly remembers him as the mastermind behind the plan to liberate the forgeworld of Vakand, which owed much to the assistance of the Salamanders chapter and the order of the Argent Shroud of which Kamala the soon to be Martyr was part." Again, this does not tally with my childhood lessons of St. Stanislaus and Kamala fighting and leading side by side during the liberation of that venerable forgeworld.

"After this campaign, Lieber was given the honour to command the army raised entirely from the world liberated by the crusade. His men were distrusted and so his army was mostly a second line formation, divisions and sometimes entire Corps being detached to form reserves for the final offensives of the crusade."

"Lieber's first experience of field command at Army level only came after the Crusade stopped at what is now Ultima Macharia, holding the borders of the newly conquered territories against possible alien incursions. After the death of the Warmaster, his territories were divided into seven Military Fiefdoms, and all his Army Group Commanders were named their Governors-General, along with the Lord Admiral, who was named Governer-General of the 7th Fief.

"While St Stanislaus and Kamala the Martyr undoubtedly served in the same theatre and even during the same engagement, there is no categorical evidence to suggest that they actually met in person more than once, on the fateful day that triggered the conflict now known as the Macharian Heresy. Of course every student of history knows that Macharius's Marshals squabbled constantly among themselves after his death, and it was just such a dispute set the scene for one of the bloodiest civil wars in the Imperium's recent history."

"General Liber's Army had finally received orders to stand down and settle, on the Planet Evrog, that eventually became our Sector's Capital. Governor Lieber as he was then, if briefly, was attempting to negotiate a dispute over medical and building supplies, which Governer-General Tarka was claiming were vital to his expeditionary force which he intended to dispatch to a world that was disputed territory bordering with the neighbouring Governer-General, Arrian, Lieber's old Commanding Officer. Lieber had offered to negotiate a settlemtn himself, but matters on his new homeworld came to a head."

"The Sisters of the Argent Shroud were claiming the supplies for their own Mission and hospital. Lieber took Sister Thavma's side, saying the supplies were intended for the citizens of his world, and, so the official goes, Tarka's Commisar General shot Prioress Kamala at point blank range with a plama pistol, and tried to have Governor Lieber arrested, but was himself burned alive by one of Kamala's subordinates."

I begin to suspect that, as with much of what I have heard thus far, that a deeper reading of this artefact will once again dispute the prevailing orthodoxies of my home sector's history.


	8. Chapter 8

The cogitator on my desk chimes.

I have message saying I've been invited to the wardroom tonight, and to check my wardrobe.

I'm lucky enough to have been assigned private quarters with a shower, which I duly take advantage of.

When I check my wardrobe I see that there is a mess jacket hanging there in the dark red of the Inquisition.

Black facing, silver buttons, a stylised ]I[ on the epaulettes and the badge of the Ordo Xenos on the collar tabs.

If they can sneak things into my quarters, they can easily sneak things out. I see no point in checking the security feeds, they

would no doubt have been doctored to remove any evidence of intrusion. My initial search showed no evidence of a search

or removal of my beloninhs but I feel uneasy nonetheless. Still, the only other clothes I have that are remotely suitable are the formal robes I wore when I was first received on board, and the naval mess kit to which I am, strictly speaking, no longer entitled. The ensemble also includes a silver laced black waistcoat, a white shirt with a high standing collar, and black trousers with dark red piping down the side, all of which fit perfectly.

As per custom, the first Officer sits at the head of the table as president of the mess. The Rogue trader sits at the opposide end, with the Captain on his right and myself on his left.

A clear gold sackwine is served as an aperitif.

"So." Eisenstark says, taking a sip from his glass.

"Do you know if it is genuine?"

I take a sip from my own glass.

"I can't be certain until we emerge from Warp Space and can conduct and autoseance,

but I believe it is the original archive."

"If the stories are true, it could be an important part of my family's history."

"Not to mention the sector."

"Of course. I would be greatly interested in any material you can find relating to Horvad and Anton Eisenstark in particular."

"If it is possible, I will oblige."

"Oh?" The young rogue trader's face show concern. Perhaps he does not fully trust me, or my masters.

"When I first acquired a lead on this investigation, I was given a piece of technology which I believe works

on similar principles, If I am right, then it may well be beyond our ability to duplicate without knowing the full

history of the artifact itself."

"Ah. I see." If he is alarmed or disappointed, he hides it well.

" I am told that Horvad Eisenstark used this very ship in early colonisation efforts before

the sector was fully pacified, and used his wealth to supply and equip entire armies of the Macharian Crusade."

"Indeed, but it was his son Anton who discovered the plans for the armour we both bare, and that he himself,

if the tales are to be believed, was named an Inquisitor. We shall see if there is any truth from the old stories."

The plates from the hors d'heuvres are cleared, and the main course is served, thick grox flank broil, marinated in a smoky sauce with an equally smoky red to go with it.

"So maybe we'll find out if the story about Old Anton's heart is true or not." Bonesteel's voice comes from down the table. It's rumoured that she'll be promoted to Captain to replace Morrigen, although the company will need new recruits to bring it up to strength.

"Which everyone of course knows already." She add hastily, seeing the expression of the other diners. Everyone has heard the story of how Anton Eisenstark was greivously injured on a supply run to a world that had supposedly been liberated, and been forced to help the local rebels test an STC archive in exchange for augmetic surgery for his wounds.

"Well, there's more to our sector's history than the Eisenstark Dynasty, the Flag Captain says, think of Kolius Raege, The Saga of Thunor, the Necron attack on Hive Nova on Evrog, the Barnabite Schism, Kal Shavir's own X Corps with the Imperial Guard." A yes, Kal Shavir, powerful psyker, increasingly strident Recongregator, major figure in the Mutant Civil War. Brother Captain Howlett of the Void Claws claimed to have know almost all of these luminaries personally. Perhaps I might see if his memories of these marvels past tally with Veydon's records.

Desert is served, a fruit crumble with an almost opaque white wine. I drink only sparingly, having never cared for sweet wines.

"So what will you do when we reach Vakand." Eisenstark asks.

"First and foremost, conduct an Auto seance on the archive, see what other secrets it hides, then consult with the Synod Technical, see what they make of the cogitator itself, can it be replicated, can its contents be copied, transcribed, and promulgated according to Gran Master Veydon's wishes?"

"I could help." Magos Sable offers " I have some experience in Heterodox Cogitator designs from my time here, Omnissiah knows the work hours I've spend going through what you've done to cogitators here is an education in itself." She says with mock disapproval.

"You would be most welcome to attend." I say diplomatically.

"But on a matter such as this, you'll understand that I must follow protocol to the letter."

"Of course." She says. "But you'll let me know, right?"

"Right."

The tablecloth is removed, the port is served and I make to withdraw.

"Once an Officer, always an Officer." Eisenstark says. Then I notice that he is in mess kit like most of the other guests,

bearing the wavy lines of the Naval Reserve a Lieutenant Commander.

"I've been on extended leave since I inherited the charter." He says by way of explanation.

" I believe Anton Eisenstark was a comrade of the great Kolius Raege." He says.

"That is what I have heard as well."  
"That he shared his confidences, even attended conclaves."

"I cannot boast the ready ear of the current Grand Master, but I hope that I shall know all that you do from this archive, you and the Inquisition owe me and my legacy that much at the least."

"I shall speak on your behalf to the Master Xenos, but even I do not have the ready ear of the Grand Master, being a newly appointed Inquisitor myself."

The officers begin shuffling slowly to the withdrawal lounge and I follow. Magos Sable is an incongruous site, with her deep red Mechanicum robes, glass of Port in one hand, lho stick in the other.

"Thank you." I say accepting a stick and inhaling its fragrant smoke.

"Want one." She says offering one to Eisenstark.

"I heard old Anton smoke these like nobodies business." She said.

"I also heard that he was into Obscura as a younger man."

"You would do well not to believe every jealous tale you hear." Hrothbeird Eisenstard says testily.

"My apologies Master Trader."

"Please, Hrothbeard now that we're not on watch."

"Thank you, Hrothbeard."

"I mean what I said earlier."

"I will support your request for access to the archive."

"It was not a request." He says, before turning to speak with the Flag Captain.

Perhaps accepting this young Rogue Trader's offer of help was not so altrustic after all.

I should have known, and I must be watchful, I do not doubt the Machanichum's own agenda

will make itself known once we reach Vakand.


	9. Chapter 9

Port and Lhosticks. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

The Commanding Armsman, Major Martins, nearly lost a considerable sum of money in a wager on the outcome of the

impromptu Regicide tournement until someone mentioned that the bet was void on account of gambling in officers'

messes being forbidden by age old stricture. Lt. Bonesteel is one of the best players I've seen, but Magos Sable

is the only person I know whose game improves as a result of intoxication.

The Morning watch has already started by the time I return to my cabin.. I wait until the middle of the Afternoon watch before proceding to the datarium to enlist Magos Sable's help in analysing the archive. She looks somewhat the worse for wear, much like me, the mechandrite tendrils on her scalp lying about like unkempt hair. "Hi." She says, handing me a lho stick and a cup of tea. Service standard, milk, two sugars.

"They'll be having the service as soon as we leave Warp". She says, referring to the memorial for the armsmen who died for what I have in the pockets of my overalls. I lay the data slate on the table and she leans over, moving the ashtray next to it. One of her mechandentrites starts twitching and links itself into a dataport. Her eyes widen and her hands start to shake. She hastily unplugs herself from the slate

"Are you alright?" I ask.

"I think so." She says.

"It all came in a rush. None of my usual transfer rites could slow it. Jumbled images, no rhyme or reason. It

could be a way to deter unauthorised access." She takes a long drag on her lho stick.

I power up the device and begin a standard diagnostic. It does not register that any form of tampering, successful or attempted,

has taken place. I switch off the slate.

"So what say we see what's under the bonnet then?"

She smiles and removes the casing from the bottom of the device.

"Huh?"

I lean over and put my lho stick in the ashtray.

There doesn't seem to be any of the STC wiring of or storagehardware, nor even an obvious

power source.

"It's all standard shape." She says.

"How do you mean. Well everything's where it should be, it just doesn't like like standard human tech."

I examine the objects now on the table. They are indeed shaped like the standard power pack and memory card,

but seem to be made of an offwhite substance that somehow suggests wood or another organic substance.

She turns them over with the mechadendrites.

"Anything."

"Well they don't seem to mechanical or even electronic."

"Then what are they for."

"Your guess is as good as mine Inquisitor." She says, suddenly formal.

I reach out and touch it. I have a rush of emotions and jumbled images, similar

to what I image the Magos experienced when she tried to interface with the archive directly.

"It's psychoative." I say.

"You sure?"  
"Positive."

"I've never seen anything like this before."  
"I think I might have during one of my investigations."

"So what is it?"  
"I think we ought to call in The Learned Endriks and Lady Dume to see what they make of it."

The Xeno arcanist and the Reclamator arrive 10 minutes later.

"Ladies." I say

"And Gentleman, i must ask for the utmost absolute discretion in this matter, No one, not even the Most Honourable Trader, may know of what we find if my suspicions are correct. You will tell no one else without my leave. Understood?"

They exchange glances and the newcomers get to work.A bell passes and Enriks looks up, his expression guarded.

"Well?" I ask.

"It's most certainly Xenos." Dume says in her crisp, clipped, aristocratic tones.

"Indeed, Eldar, most likely." Endriks adds.  
"I thought I had seen this before. Wraithbone?"  
"Almost certainly. I've seen it myself once a few years past." The aristocratic Reclamator says.

"If what I've heard about this is true, then how did the Grand Master propose to copy and promulgate this archive?"

Sable asks opening another carton of lho sticks. We take one each and light up.

"The instructions on the slate itself refer to autoseances." I say, taking a long drag.

"My theory is that the plan was to transcribe the data onto a similar psychoactive material using an astropath. He wanted a copy

of these in every Schola Progenium facility throughout the sector. No small undertaking."

"Do you plan to continue his work."

"I'm not sure. I'll need to run an autoseance my self, gain full access, then have a more thorough analysis

from the Magoi Ypologisti on Vankand."

"What?!" Larissa von Dume's voice cracks like a whip.

"The Adeptus Mechanicus will destroy this as an abhomination."

"Not if we're careful. I am an Inquisitor, and I have a friend among the Magoi of Vakand. If he can call in a few favours,

we should be safe. I shall of course, have to inform the Ordos of this development."

"So which do you intend to do first?" Sable asks.

"Autoseance, letter, then analysis. Until the last part is complete, do not disclose any of what you have seen here to anyone."


	10. Chapter 10

The preliminary analysis of the Archive proved to be briefer than I had anticipated and much more disturbing.

Josiah Veydon, former Grand Master of the Ordos Thavma, and superlative scholar according to the common

citizen, was a radical, possibly even a heretek. My own opinions on the use of Xenos technology are of no relevance

to this case, as the option of concealing my findings is not open to me.

Due to the unusual circumstances that led to me taking up the case, I had to obtain the approval of the

Inquisitorial College of Masters for the sector in order to proceed with my investigation. This came with

more than its fair share of caveats.

Firstly, that I travel with a member of the Chamber militant to ensure the success of the mission and the security of the prize.

The real reason I assume, was to monitor me. Both my former master, and his own, from whom I had taken on this quest were

under arrest for a variety of offences including sacrilege, and, while their case was still not decided, they clearly considered me to

be possibly unsound by that association. He had saved my own life on the Spacehulk, and the chapter to which he belonged owed

me a great debt due to the recovery of one of their most sacred relice. However, he was still a member of the Deathwatch and sword

to the destruction of the Enemy Without. It was highly likely that he would see to it that the archive was destroyed as it was tainted

with alien technology.

I had similar concerns with the second stipulation. In an effort to further cooperation with the Red Priests of Mars, I had been ordered

to present the Archive to the Synod Technical on Vakand so they could analyse the document. The Inquisition hoped to gain a means

of preserving its knowledge and the option of promulgating it, and the Adeptus Mechanicus wanted a share of the credit for the recovery

of what was whispered to be an unprecedented masterpiece of Imperial scholarship. Both I and the Trader Eisenstark had contacts within the

Adeptus Mechanicus who had been known to study, copy, and even use Xeno tech, but their practices effectively barred them from high office,

and so they were unlikely to be of much help when speaking to the Synod Technical, whom I did not doubt would take the Orthodox line of destroying

it to appease the Ecclesiarchy, or would take its secrets for themselves before doing so.

The third stipulation, that I take passage with and seek assistance from the Rogue Trader Hrodbearth Eisenstark, had been to settle another debt

of honour, between the government of the Sector and the Trader House itself, who had supplied the Imperial war effort during the Macharian

Crusade, and the Post Macharian Heresy. Perhaps it was here that I would find a solution to my dilemma, although it meant that I would have

doubtless incur a debt of honour of my own while gaining one from Master Gileas, assuming he still lived ...


End file.
